


Stonn's Trouble and Strife

by jenny_wren



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_wren/pseuds/jenny_wren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Stonn meet as kids and hit it off</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Woo-hoo, finally finished writing my father's Christmas present (yes it is Christmas Eve). Unfortunately have conclusively proved I cannot write short detective fiction, but it's not as bad as I was afraid it was going to be, and it is _finished_ \- so in celebration due out some of my stories with Christmas in. This is wip but the Christmas bit is finished.
> 
> Kink meme prompt: Stonn/Kirk. They meet as kids and hit it off. Overprotective growly Vulcan who is very affectionate with his chosen(kirk). Bonuses, Touching OMG I'm so glad your alive reunion after the Enterprise returns to earth. Spock prime being all O_o wtf?

Stonn sits in class with his very best blank face, as the teacher explains mathematical principles he is well aware of. He has tried to explain he already knows, but that was being disruptive, so now he sits and stares and pretends he is back on Vulcan. Vulcan where it is warm, instead of damp drizzly San Francisco, Vulcan where the mind chatter of his peers meant he was never alone even in his learning cubicle, Vulcan where he belonged.

His parents had explained how important it was that they join Starfleet as Professors to teach new Cadets the importance of Universal Symmetry. Stonn understands this, but he does not understand why he could not remain on Vulcan where it is warm and welcoming.

Finally the interminable class is over, and Stonn moves smoothly to the cafeteria. There he waits patiently by the kitchen’s side door for the cooks to bring him his Vulcan approved vegetarian meal.

“Hi-i-i,” a young voice cries joyously and something smacks hard into his chest and legs.

Startled, he looks down, straight into the brightest blue eyes he has ever seen.

“Hi,” the small human boy smiles up at him. This close Stonn’s empathy kicks in and he’s almost overwhelmed by the happiness and delight aimed at him, for him.

“Hello,” he says gravely, relaxing under the warmth of the child’s regard for him.

The human child giggles, “You sound funny, say something else.”

Stonn cannot pick up any of the unease he senses from his classmates. He cautiously pats the child on the head, the way he has observed human adults act. “My name is Stonn, I am pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Jim.” The human child hugs him closer and rubs his face against his chest. Stonn is not displeased.

“Jimmy? Jimmy! Where is that wretched child?” An angry looking human woman caught sight of Stonn and his companion and stormed towards them, “Jimmy Kirk! You naughty, disrespectful little boy. You do not touch Vulcans.” 

One large hand reaches for Jim, who shrinks closer to Stonn. All the warm happiness has blinked out like someone turned off a light and Stonn shivers under the backwash of sadness and a loneliness so like his own.

He turns them so the woman cannot grasp the child, “I do not mind,” he says stiffly.

The woman claps him on the shoulder. “That’s very understanding of you Stonn.”

“I do not mind _him_ touching me,” he corrects.

The woman’s generalized annoyance and distaste crystallizes into something vicious and ugly. Jim peeks around Stonn,

“See Mrs Mackenzie, I’m not the only nuisance who has to have special meals.”

The woman hateful thoughts concentrate on the child in his arms. Stonn decides he likes that even less, though that is not logical as he should be glad they no longer batters directly at his shields. He wants the woman to go away.

“Go away. I will watch him.”

“Fine.” She folds her arms, turns sharply and strides off. Stonn’s sharp ears hear her mutter, “Let him have an allergic reaction, teach the little shit a lesson.”

Jim droops, “Sorry, Mrs Mackenzie doesn’t like me awfully much. She says I’m more trouble than a whole barrel full of monkeys.”

“Why would you put monkeys in a barrel?”

“I dunno, I guess they’d be plenty mad though. Probably why they are lots of trouble.”

The kitchen door opens and one of the cooks peers out.

“There you two are,” she scolds and hands them large plastic trays. They carry them carefully to a nearby table and sit down. Jim eyes the packet of nuts on Stonn’s tray and grins mischievously.

“I can get Mrs Mackenzie into lots of trouble, should I?”

Stonn believes him to be considering reporting the unpleasant woman and endorses the plan.

“Okay, but you have to promise to scream real loud.” 

Stonn does not understand, and he watches puzzled as Jim transferred the packet of nuts to his own tray, tears it open and quickly eats three of the nuts.

“Screaming good,” gasps Jim, as appears to choke on nothing. Stonn watches in horror as Jim’s face swells and his breathing grows hoarse and raspy and desperate. He screams as loudly as he can and grabs Jim’s hand. He can feel Jim’s panic and he wants to say something reassuring but his tongue is thick and heavy. His chest heaves as he sucks at the air frantically, but his throat is closing up, and he can’t get enough, and he can’t breathe, and everything is going black.

 

It’s the first ever recorded case of empathetically-induced anaphylaxis. Nobody is pleased.

 

Stonn wakes up in a strange bed trapped by stiff confining sheets. He can feel his both parents clearlly, so he knows they must be nearby but they aren’t close enough for him to pick up any of their direct thoughts, he only knows that they are angry.

He decides it would be better not to tug on the bonds for their attention. Instead he attempts to sit up, but he is too weak and shaky to fight past the sheet. Giving up on a direct assault, he tries yanking at one side of the sheet attempting to pull it out from under the mattress.

“You’re awake,” cries a hoarse, happy voice, that after a second he recognizes as Jim’s. Lifting his head awkwardly, Stonn can see the younger boy swinging down from his own bed. “The sheets are always evil here. Let me help.”

Jim’s leverage is much better, he easily frees Stonn from the sheets and Stonn can finally sit up. He tries to thank Jim but his throat aches and his mouth is sore, all that comes out is a pathetic whimper.

“Yeah,” agrees Jim, “Being intubed is nasty.” He clambers up onto Stonn’s bed and slides under the covers. Then leans over to the side table and carefully picks up the glass of water there with both hands. He gives it to Stonn,

“Water makes your throat feel less scratchy.”

Stonn sips the water carefully. It does make him feel better. He wants to tell Jim that, but his throat still doesn’t feel up to speaking, and Jim isn’t telepathic. He remembers his human culture classes and decides this is an appropriate moment for a smile. He pats Jim on the arm to get his attention, then lifts the corners of his lips. It feel awkward and false, but Jim smiles back and Stonn can feel his mouth relaxing into something more natural.

“See, better,” Jim nods his head proudly. Then his face falls. “I’m really sorry you got sick too. I didn’t know that would happen. The doctors didn’t either. They shouted a lot until Dr Mick came and made them stop. I’m really, really sorry.”

Jim truly is sorry, Stonn can feel it rolling off him in miserable, stomach-lurching waves. He licks his dry lips and swallows, trying to soothe his tender throat in advance.

“I know you did not mean to make me sick.”

But that does not reassure Jim. Instead the misery spirals out of control.

“I’m sorry,” Jim wails and his eyes grow red and water starts to drip from them.

Stonn stares in horror. He realizes these must be tears. Humans cry, he remembers, because of great physical, mental, or emotional trauma.

“Where are you hurt?” he demands.

The little boy ignores him, continuing to cry and he grabs onto Stonn, clutching him tightly. It is as if he is being slowly suffocated under the weight of Jim’s despair. Stonn has never experienced anything like this. When he was much younger his emotions were less controlled, but his parents’ minds were always there to absorb and discpline his wildness. This is like being adrift on a out of control shuttle in a storm racked sky.

Stonn forgets all about not disturbing his parents and calls frantically for them along their bonds.

Since arriving on Earth, he has seen crying human children three times, although his parents always hurried him away from the scene. The adult with the child patted them like they were a sehlat, and said something. Stonn searches his mind as he strokes his hand repetitively against Jim’s back.

“Here, here, hush, hush,” he says hopefully. He thinks those are the correct words.

Jim looks at him, all his inside feelings expressed vividly outside. “You don‘t hate me?”

“Of course I do not,” says Stonn firmly, he’d agree to anything right now that would make Jim happier, and this is even true.

Jim gives a great sigh and snuggles closer to him. The tears stop and Stonn can feel Jim’s emotions lightening and brightening. It feels as if he has single-handedly stopped a rain storm and brought back the sun; he’s incredibly proud of himself.

His parents stride into the room, closely followed by a doctor and two nurses. A strand of hair has come loose from his mother’s neat chingon. She walks directly to Stonn and presses her first two fingers briefly to his forehead just above the ridge of his brow.

“I apologise for distressing you, mother,” says Stonn, disliking to see her so upset on his account. Stonn never means to be, but sometimes it seems he cannot help being an unworthy son.

“You sounded alarmed, my son.”

“Jim cried.” Stonn feels his emotional balance see-saw again at the thought of it.

One of the nurses hastily approachs the other side of the bed,

“Jimmy love, you need to come away from the Vulcans, they’re not used to a bright spark like you.”

“No,” Jim’s lower lip protrudes mutinously.

“Young man,” says the doctor sternly.

“But Dr Mick, I’m being good,” Jim protests, “I gotted Stonn a glass of water and I helped him out his sheets.”

“It is acceptable to me if Jim stays,” Stonn says in support. The nurse and doctor look at his parents.

His father begins, “Stonn is not as adept as the majority of Vulcan children at the telepathic arts.”

Still raw from Jim’s emotions, Stonn struggles to hide his wince. It is illogical to feel shame for what one cannot control, but Stonn still feels shame for his lack of talents. Jim’s grip on him tightens and, equally illogically, Stonn feels better. He wonders if two illogical acts cancel each other out.

His father is still speaking, “That’s why we felt it was an acceptable risk to bring him to Earth instead of leaving him on Vulcan, but I do not believe he is equipped to manage such close contact to a human, and a human child at that. Especially given the transmission of the anaphylaxis.”

“Surely then it is logical for me to practice,” says Stonn, and is promptly horrified at his own audacity.

His father blinks at him, and he feels his mother is amused.

The doctor clears his throat, “It, er, has been theorized that a child would be preferable for practising shielding due to the, er, purer emotions involved. Not that I mean to tell you your business or anything.”

“Perhaps until the human boy’s parents arrive?” suggets his mother.

“Where are his parents?” demands his father.

“Oh,” the doctor’s gaze drops briefly to the floor. “Did nobody say? This is James _Kirk_.”

Both his parents blink. Stonn ignores them, concerned by Jim.

“Jim feels sick,” he announces.

“I’m fine,” says Jim.

“Of the Kelvin?” demands Stonn’s father.

“Yes. His mother is a Lieutenant Commander with Starfleet and currently off-planet. Jimmy boards at the Starfleet school here in San Francisco. His closest relatives are a grandfather and a brother in Iowa.”

“Jim feels sick,” Stonn insists.

“Unfortunately kid, that’s not something I can fix,” says the doctor.

Stonn glares. What sort of doctor is this?

His parents stand silently for a moment. His mother reaches out and his parents’s hands brush against each other. Stonn waits hopefully for their decision.

“Very well,” says his father finally, “we will leave our son in your care. Come wife, we must return to the Academy.”

His father’s eyes focus on Stonn for a moment and Stonn feels their bond pulse with love and relief, he sends his own love and gratitutude back. 

“You must study your shielding,” instructs his father, “I shall be most displeased if I am called away from my duties again.”

“Yes father.”

His mother again presses her fingers to his forehead, “Be well, my son.”

“Yes mother.”

To his suprise, his mother then presses her fingers to Jim’s forehead.

“Be well, James.”

“Uh, yes ma’am.” Jim cups his hand over the spot Stonn’s mother touched. 

His parents turn smoothly and leave swiftly.

“Phew,” says the nurse, “it’s suddenly got a lot less chilly in here.”

Stonn does not believe the tempreture has changed at all, and he opens his mouth to tell her so, when Jim takes his hand,

“Come on Stonn, I’ll show you all the best toys. We can play Starship.”

“Jimmy, you’re supposed to be undergoing monitoring for biphasic anaphaylixs.” The doctor turns his attention to Stonn, “Sometimes symptons reoccur. You’re not to be frightened if they do. We will be able to help you.”

“I know that Dr Mick,” whines Jim, “but sitting in bed is boring.”

“I’ll fetch you Starship, if you promise to stay in bed until dinner time.”

“We accept,” says Stonn.

Jim stares at him, “But Stonn - ”

“I do not like not breathing. It is logical to follow medical advice.”

“Attaboy,” the doctor praises. His hand hovers over Stonn’s head before patting him on the shoulder. “I think I’ll like having you around.”

“Dr Mick!” protests Jim.

“Don’t worry Jimmy, you’re still my favorite patient.” The doctor runs his hand through Jim’s hair and Jim makes a soft, contented sound. “But I’ll never say no to a good influence.”

“I’m a great influence,” Jim folds his arms and nods his head firmly.

The doctor laughs, “Yeah okay, I concede. You are indeed a great influence, you little scamp. Now stay there, don’t move, and I’ll get you Starship.”

Jim seems about to protest but the doctor runs his hand thrugh Jim’s hair again and he subsides with a happy sigh.


	2. The Principal’s Office

Stonn watches Jim’s feet swing as they sit together on the bench outside the Principal’s Office. The Principal’s secretary is watching them with a scowl in her brows and pursed lips. They ignore her.

“I’m sorry I got you into trouble,” says Jim after a while. He shifts his hand along the bench until it bumps against Stonn’s.

“Our position is logical,” says Stonn calmly. However in his mind he is a little bit anxious because sometimes he and his parents do not quite agree on what is logical.

Jim swings his feet harder, forming a pattern in the air and moving his feet faster and faster until inevitably they crash into each other. Then Jim starts to deliberately bounce his sneakers against each other to make the rubber squeak.

Jim is getting bored. Jim’s mind feels different when he is bored, it rumbles continuously like an over-revving engine. Something interesting always happens when Jim’s mind finally catches. Stonn does not feel the Principal’s Office is a logical place for interesting things to happen.

“Jim, tell me something in Vulcan.”

His friend grins, “Okey-dokey.” Jim loves learning Vulcan, although he is not very good at it. He calls it their super-secret code.

Jim is explaining about tornados, when Stonn feels his parents approach. He clears his face of his amusement at Jim’s pronunciation and sits up straight.

“Uh-oh,” says Jim. “Your parents?”

Stonn nods.

Jim sits up too, and straightens his sweater. He cannot, however, hide the big smear of dirt across the front. Stonn pats at Jim’s hair, trying to make the salt-encrusted strands look less bedraggled.

When the door opens Stonn quickly places his hands neatly in his lap. Jim bumps his shoulder encouragingly.

His father and mother sweep serenely into the room. They each nod briefly at Stonn before turning their attention to the secretary.

“Professor Solin, Mrs T’Mir, we are just waiting on - ”

The door opens again.

“Dr Mick,” cheers Jim.

“Hello Rascal,” Dr Mick crouches down in front of Jim cupping both his hands around his neck and tilting his head for inspection. After a minute he drops his hands, satisfied. “Doesn’t look like anything’s damaged. What have you been doing to get the hen house in a flutter?” He turns slightly, “Stonn, little buddy, you okay?”

“I am satisfactory, Dr Mick,” says Stonn.

Dr Mick studies him for a moment. “Okay great.” He stands back up. “Professor Solin, Professor T‘Mir, nice to see you again.”

“And you Dr Brady,” says Stonn’s father.

“So what are we here for? My nurse said it was urgent.”

Another man steps into the room, “Let us go into my office.” 

Stonn stares at the man who must be the Principal. He doesn’t look like Stonn is expecting. He isn’t tall enough.

“So why are we here?” demands Dr Mick, once they are all in the office and the adults are sitting down.

“Perhaps the boys should tell you.”

The adults all look at them. Jim takes a step forwards,

“Stonn had never seen the sea before, so I had to go show him. Everyone should see the sea, right Dr Mick?”

Dr Mick shakes his head, “Nice try Jimmy, but you can‘t just skip school.”

“It was only math.”

“You evaded your mathematics class?” demands Stonn’s father. Stonn winces. “Stonn, you are only an average student at the mathematical arts.”

“Stonn’s great at maths,” Jim interrupts. “He’ll pass the test. Math class is a waste of time. And wasting time is illogical,” he grins, clearly pleased with this argument.

Stonn’s father looks even more disapproving.

Jim doesn‘t back down. He stares up at Stonn‘s father. “Honestly, Professor Solin, sir, it’s so boring. Tell him Stonn.” He looks at Stonn, bouncing on his toes in agitation.

“Stonn?”

Stonn takes a deep breath, “It is uninteresting. Truly father. We are studying fractions. I understood them when I was an infant.” 

“Show me.” And Stonn feels he’s father’s stern, gentle presence in his head. He pulls up a page of the dispiriting mathematics for his father’s inspection. He feels his father’s surprise and he quickly shows his father more. His father studies them all carefully and then his presence pulls back until only the reassuring hum in the background of Stonn’s mind remains.

Jim nudges him, looking anxious. Stonn permits himself a small smile to comfort his friend.

Stonn’s father disapproval is now fixed on the Principal,

“Your lessons are far from satisfactory. I was informed this was a demanding school that would prepare a child for entry to Starfleet. But my son is correct, these are lessons for infants.”

“Told you,” says Jim, “bor-ring.”

The Principal puffs up with outrage, “Our lessons plans are Federation approved Professor Solin. The children are lying to get out of trouble for skipping class.”

“My son does not lie.”

Dr Mick coughs loudly. “Sirs, I think we are having a little cultural miscommunication here. Vulcan children are significantly more advanced than their human peers.”

“I have noticed no signs of such backwardness in James Kirk,” says Stonn’s father.

“Well, Jimmy’s a rather exceptional case.”

The adults all try to speak at once. Jim elbows Stonn, “I’ma ‘ceptional case,” he whispers and grins proudly.

The Principal is glowering at Stonn’s father. Dr Mick drops down to crouch in front of Stonn.

“Little buddy, didn’t you think to tell somebody you were bored in class?”

The injustice stings, “They told me I was a disruptive influence.”

“Like me,” Jim supports, “I’m a disruptive influence and a bloody nuisance.”

“Ah, Mr Lattimore, perhaps some of your staff need reminding that little pitchers have big ears.” Now Dr Mick sounds angry as he uncurls to glare at the Principal.

“We are getting off the point,” blusters the Principal, “regardless of the circumstances, the boys skipped class.”

“But Stonn already knew about fractions and he’d never seen the sea. So it was _educational,_ ” Jim nods his head. “That’s good, isn’t Professor Solin? Professor T‘Mir.” He waves his hands at Stonn’s parents in appeal.

“Stonn?” asks his mother. She sends a little pulse of encouragement along their bond.

Stonn composes himself, reminds himself their argument is sound, and speaks calmly in his best imitation of his father‘s tone, “If one’s learning environment lacks stimulation, it is only logical to seek out an alternative.”

Dr Mick coughs violently. “That’s Jimmy reasoning all right.” He coughs some more.

The Principal glares at Jim. “I am sorry Professor Solin. It appears your son has been misled as to the type of behavior expected at our institution. It was James Kirk who lied about the need to visit the medical centre in order for them to abscond.”

“I didn’t lie, I told them we were going to see Dr Mick, but Dr Mick was busy, so we went to see the sea. Which is very educational,” he tacks on hastily.

“Taking blatant advantage of the latitude allowed to a chronically ill student.”

“Wait just one minute,” Dr Mick stares at the Principal, “Jimmy isn’t chronically ill. He had acute bronchitis when he arrived in San Francisco and we were worried about it impacting on his long-term lung function, but he’s perfectly healthy now.”

“James Kirk is continually in the medical centre.”

“Yeah,” says Jim, “visiting Dr Mick. But mostly he’s busy so I go amuse myself for five minutes.”

“Jimmy. How often do you visit me?”

“All the time. We went yesterday too, didn’t we Stonn, but you wasn’t in, so we went to see the Golden Gate bridge instead, which is educational. But not as nice as seeing you. Next week, when I get my pocket money, we’re going to Alcatraz. That’s super-specially educational.” Jim spreads his arms wide in demonstration.

“Holy shit!”

“Dr Mick, you said a bad word.”

“Holy shit! You’ve been wandering all over San Francisco on your own and nobody’s even noticed.” Dr Mick reaches over and grabs Jim, pulling him up onto his lap.

“Dr Mick, I’m not a baby,” Jim protests, snuggling closer, beaming with triumph.

“Shut up and lump it, you appalling brat.” 

Jim squeaks as Dr Mick tightens his grip.

Stonn is confused because the humans’ tones and actions do not match their words. This, he has found, is often the case with humans. He places one hand on Jim’s leg so he can be certain that Jim is not upset, and is relieved to find Jim’s mind purring with happiness.

Then Dr Mick’s arm swoops around him and drags him into a hug of swirling relief, fear, disbelief and thankfulness. It makes Stonn dizzy.

“Sorry,” says Dr Mick, releasing him abruptly.

“It is all right Dr Mick. I just felt a bit sick.”

“I hear you little buddy. So Mr Lattimore, how did nobody notice Jimmy was never in class?”

“We thought he was in hospital. And his schoolwork never suffered.”

“Since he finds the work two years ahead ‘boring’ that isn’t so surprising.” Dr Mick ruffles his fingers through Jim’s hair, then he stops, “I know I’m going to regret asking, but is this _salt_ in Jimmy‘s hair?”

“I felled in, Dr Mick.”

“There was a very big splash,” explains Stonn. “It was most concerning.”

“I can swim,” says Jim, “But Stonn can‘t, did you know lots of Vulcans can‘t swim Dr Mick, so I told him to stay back. That was sensible of me wasn’t it.”

“Yes Jimmy, that was very sensible. Now you just need to start taking your own advice. And please don’t tell me you walked around in wet clothes for the next however long. Because when I said you were perfectly healthy it was on the understanding you weren’t going out of your way to catch pneumonia.”

“A nice lady microwaved them for me. And Stonn made me wear his coat.”

“It was logical.”

“So you don’t have to worry Dr Mick, I was lots warmer than the last time I felled in.”

Dr Mick’s eyes close and his lips move but even Stonn’s sharp ears can’t hear what he’s saying.

Stonn’s mother takes them both to the cafeteria shortly after that. Stonn’s father and Dr Mick join them later. Their lessons get much more interesting from then on, but Stonn never does get to see Alcatraz.


	3. Christmas

Stonn approaches the Nurses’ desk. He is not nervous, because that would be illogical, he is merely concerned that the doctor appriecate the importance of his request.

Nurse Jenny is on duty and she smiles at him.

“Hello Stonn, what are you doing here?”

“I have come to speak with Dr Mick. May I do so?”

“I’ll see if he’s there.”

Stonn follows her to the staff door and waits patiently. She goes inside and he can hear her call,

“Mick, your favorite aggravation’s shadow is here to speak to you.”

“Oh Christ,” says Dr Mick. “Coming.”

Nurse Jenny reappears, “He’ll just be a moment Stonn.”

“I will wait.”

Dr Mick emerges and smiles at Stonn, “Hey little buddy, everything okay?”

“I wish to speak with you.”

“That’s a no then. You better come through to my office.”

Stonn obediently follows, then stiffens with surprise when Dr Mick picks him up and sits him on his desk. But Dr Mick lets him go and Stonn likes the height because when Dr Mick props himself against the desk, Stonn can look directly at his face. Dr Mick appears worried.

“So where’s Jimmy?”

“Jim is at art class.”

“He okay?”

Stonn deliberates, “Humans celebrate Christmas?”

“Yes, pretty much all humans do, though some call it by a different name.”

“Jim is being sent away for Christmas.”

“Christmas is a time to visit family.”

“Then it is illogical to send Jim away. Jim’s family is here.” Stonn folds his arms tightly around his chest.

Dr Mick sighs, he looks tired. “Jim’s family are in Iowa, and they miss him very much. They’ll be happy to see him for Christmas. You don’t have to worry Stonn.”

“If Jim has an allergic reaction, he will not be sent away.”

“Well yes, if Jim has an allergic reaction close to Christmas, he won‘t be able to… Stonn! No!” Dr Mick’s voice goes loud and angry. “You cannot give Jim something he is allergic to, just to force him to stay here for Christmas. This is serious - ”

“I know,” says Stonn, because otherwise he would not be here. “The reaction can get worse each time. Jim might be gravely hurt. I would never do anything to hurt Jim.”

“Stonn.”

“I would never hurt Jim.” Stonn rocks his body back and forth, he should not be here, Jim would be upset with him if he knew. But the reaction can get worse each time, Jim might be gravely hurt, Jim might die.

“You’re a Vulcan,” says Dr Mick slowly, “A Vulcan wouldn’t be sentimental about Christmas.”

“I have never celebrated Christmas before. Jim was very excited. He said we would go to hospital and there would be a man in a red coat to give presents and there would be singing and cake and hugs. But now Jim is to be sent away. Jim does not wish to be sent away. Jim is very determined.” Stonn stares anxiously at Dr Mick. He does not want to tell Dr Mick exactly what Jim plans, because telling adults about a human child’s difficulties is wrong. 

Jim would not even let Stonn tell anybody when the other students threw his new text books in a mud puddle. Jim gave Stonn his own textbooks to replace the ruined ones, and then told the teacher it was Jim who had dropped his own new books in a puddle accidentally. The teacher shouted a lot about Jim’s irresponsibility and how upset his parents would be with him if they were there.

Then, one recess when it was raining, Jim crept into the cloakroom and put itching powder in the jacket hoods of all the unpleasant students.

Stonn’s parents had told him that human’s were weak because they did not undertake a Kash’wan. Stonn much prefers the Kash’wan, which, with nobody to judge him as inadequate, he actually found quite relaxing. 

Starfleet school is not relaxing. Some of students even attempted to physically harm Jim. But Stonn is a Vulcan and human children receive no standard training in self-defence. Nobody has attempted to harm Jim since. Stonn is teaching Jim about pressure points, just to make sure.

Jim would not let Stonn tell anybody about that either. ‘Telling’ is bad. Worser than anything else. Stonn’s parents told him he must respect the rules of his new enviroment, even if he does not understand them. More than that, he does not want Jim to become angry with him.

“I am not a sneak,” he assures Dr Mick, because he does not want Dr Mick to be angry with him either.

Dr Mick smiles at him, “Poor solemn little Stonn, humans must seem awfully strange to you.” He places his hand briefly on Stonn’s shoulder. Dr Mick does not feel happy.

“I am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” says Dr Mick. “It’s not even Jimmy’s fault really, much as I want his guts for garters. The stubborn little shit will do it too, won’t he?”

Stonn very carefully does not not move.

“Probably already has done it.” He holds up one hand, “Don’t answer that, my heart can’t take it.”

“I am not a sneak.”

“God, I knew it. What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

Stonn looks at him hopefully.

“Alright fine. It’s not as if I’m attached to my medical licence or anything. If, and this hypothetical - do Vulcans even understand what hypothetical means?”

Stonn nods his head, he has heard his parents discussing it and other technqiues humans use to deny the truth, “It means that you do not wish to take responsibility for your words.”

“Something like that. Stonn, if you or Jimmy tell anybody about this I will get into a lot of trouble.”

“Who would we tell?”

“Enough already, you’ve convinced me.”

Stonn wrinkles his nose in confusion.

Dr Mick sighs, “Okay, so, hypothetically, if Jimmy complained about the inside of his ear hurting, he would be sent to me, and I would look at his ear. And if I said he had an ear infection, Jimmy wouldn’t be able to get on the shuttle to take him to Iowa.”

“All Jim has to do is complain his ear hurts him?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you Dr Mick.” Stonn only really likes smiling at Jim, but he knows that human’s value smiles, and he is very grateful to Dr Mick, so he gives the doctor his very best smile.

“And I thought Jimmy was the cute one of your gruesome twosome.” Dr Mick shakes his head, then picks Stonn up and stands him back on the ground. He pats him on the back. “You’re a good friend, Stonn, Jimmy’s lucky to have you.”

That is illogical. It is Stonn who is lucky to have Jim, and Stonn is not going to lose him.

 

Jim reluctantly agrees to follow Dr Mick’s instructions, so Stonn sits beside him in Dr Mick’s office, hoping very hard that the plan works. Stonn wants to cross his fingers, even though he understands it is a primitive human superstition designed to give one the feeling of control over events one cannot influence. Instead he links his pinkie finger with Jim’s.

Jim stops tapping his foot in agitation. Dr Mick looks at them,

“I honestly cannot believe I am doing this.”

Jim’s face stiffens. Stonn squeezes his pinkie finger a little harder.

“If I do this, I don’t want to hear of anymore pretend accidental allergic reactions.”

Jim pouts and nods his head. 

Jim is very sneaky. Dr Mick will not be happy if he ever realizes Jim only promised not to let hear Dr Mick hear about any more reactions, not that he would never do it again.

Stonn has already made Jim promise not to give himself an allergic reaction without giving Stonn a chance to think of an alternative plan first. Jim was very, very mad that Stonn spoke to Dr Mick, but Stonn pretended he did not mind and eventually Jim promised. Later Jim apologized for getting mad and accompanied Stonn to the Botanical Gardens. Jim finds the Botanical Gardens boring, but Stonn’s parents will not let him visit on his own.

Stonn knows Jim was sorry because Jim was on his best behavior for the whole visit except when he tried to do a handstand and fell into a hydrangea bush.

“Are you actually sick?” asks Dr Mick, “because you’re looking a bit pale.”

Jim ducks his head to hide his grin. Jim hasn’t eaten anything today to make sure he looked ill. Jim is very good at being ill.

“Let me just check your ears and throat. I’m not having you come down with something while I think you’re faking it.”

Dr Mick is finally satisfied, although he still appears a bit disturbed.

“All right. If you’re sure you want to do this. I’ll call your grandfather.”

Jim nods his head and wriggles closer to Stonn.

Dr Mick sighs and activates his comm. 

“Kirk here.”

Stonn leans forward, interested to see Jim’s forefather. The man is old and crumpled, the blue in his eyes is very faint, not like Jim’s.

“Good afternoon Mr Kirk.”

“Good afternoon Dr Brady. Is Jimmy sick again?”

“Yes, I’m afraid he has an ear infection. Unfortunately a shuttle flight, with it’s change in pressure, is not something I can allow Jim to undertake at this time.”

“So he’s not coming home for Christmas then.”

“I don’t think it advisable he fly now. We can try and rebook a ticket at a later date.”

Jim’s finger clutched Stonn’s tighter, but the old man shook his head,

“No, no. Christmas is a crazy time to try and rearrange a flight. And there’s no guarantee Jimmy will be well. It’s better he stay there. You be a good boy, Jimmy. We’ll miss you.”

“Yes Grandfather.”

“I’ll send your presents along. Get well soon and Merry Christmas, Jimmy. ”

“Merry Christmas Grandfather.”

“You boys go through to my examination room,” Dr Mick opens the door for them, “I just need a few more words with Mr Kirk.”

As soon as the door is shut, Jim leans against it so he can hear. Stonn doesn’t need to press as close, but he listens intently just the same. Stonn’s parents always explain what is happening to him, he does not understand the human adults desire to keep Jim ignorant.

“I am very sorry about this, Mr Kirk,” Dr Mick is saying.

“No. No, it can’t be helped, and Jimmy is such a sickly little thing. It might even be better this way. Young Sam is approaching an awkward age, and everyone always makes such a fuss of Jimmy because of… well, because.

“I do my best to even things out, but Jimmy is such a demanding child, it’s hard. Always coming up sick. To tell the truth, I got sort of used to it, then he went and caught that bronchitis.” Jim’s forefather trails off sounding tired and unhappy. When he speaks again he sounds decisive. “No, it’s definitely better he stay in San Francisco under proper medical supervision.”

“Yes Mr Kirk, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Good. As I said, I’ll arrange to have his presents forwarded. I’ll call on Christmas day and if you could make sure he calls his mother, I’d be grateful.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Thank you. I’ll speak to you again soon.”

“Goodbye Mr Kirk.”

“See,” says Stonn, “Dr Mick is very logical.”

“You were right.” Jim pulls a brightly-colored packet of sweets from his pocket. “I got your favorite.”

Stonn does his very best imitation of his father’s stern disapproval. He takes the peanut candies from Jim and drops them in the trash.

“Meanie,” whines Jim. He pulls another packet from his pocket and hands it to Stonn. This time it is in fact Stonn’s favorite apricot and sultana mix. Jim rubs the side of his face against Stonn’s shoulder, “I’m sorry I’m a bloody nuisance.”

“It is not your fault others are manifestly illogical.”

 

“Stockings,” insists Jim. “We gotta have stockings.”

Dr Mick laughs, “Your grandfather already warned me you don’t believe in Santa Claus.”

“I believe in stockings.” Jim’s blue eyes widen earnestly. “Two stockings, one for me and one for Stonn.”

Humans have a lot of rituals for Christmas. Dr Mick’s flat mate returns to his family home for Christmas, so Jim is staying with Dr Mick. While Dr Mick is at work, Jim stays with Stonn. They are supposed to stay at Stonn’s house but Stonn’s parents do not find Jim very restful. Instead they explore the Academy shuttle yards. One of the mechanics is showing them how to fix sick shuttles, so he and Jim can be shuttle-doctors like Dr Mick is a people-doctor.

“Do you want a stocking Stonn?” asks Dr Mick.

“Yes please.”

Dr Mick’s eyes narrow, “Do you know what the stocking is for?”

“No.”

Dr Mick sighs. 

Jim looks aghast and hurries to explain about Santa. Stonn blinks. Jim drags him to Dr Mick’s main comm and shows him Starfleet’s galaxy wide Santa tracker. Stonn blinks some more.

“Jim this is…” he cuts his protest off. His parents have explained that many humans gain comfort from their irrational beliefs.

“Oh, I know Santa’s only pretend. Sam told me ages ago. But it’s nice to pretend sometimes.” Jim’s shoulders hunch up in the way that makes anger stir in the back of Stonn’s mind.

“So where is Santa is right now?” he asks.

Jim’s shoulders relax and he grins delightedly at Stonn. “This is his route,” he traces it with his finger across the screen, “so he’ll arrive in the solar system on the 23rd all ready for Christmas Eve. Right now he’s here, sweeping through the Xindi system. I bet he leaves them all lumps of coal.”

“So,” says Dr Mick. “Two stockings. You want your names on them?”

“Can we? Really? Like Robbie and Alex’s back in Iowa? Their Mom made them stockings with their names sewn on and everything. They were brilliant.”

Dr Mick looks sort of worried, “I’ll do my best,” he promises.

Jim jumps and down with excitement, Dr Mick catches him before he can tumble into the Christmas tree.

“Careful, we can’t knock it over before we’ve even finished decorating it.”

Stonn is not sure why hanging bright plastic on a dark green tree is important, but Jim has assured him it is of vital significance. Their tree does not look quite like the other examples he has observed. It is not quite even, nor is it standing quite straight, and there are a lot more ornaments on the bottom branches, that Jim and Stonn can reach, than near the top.

Dr Mick makes them stand back while he drapes tiny strings of light bulbs around the tree. When he’s finished he stands back with a sigh of satisfaction,

“Looking good. Now for the piece de resistance. Jimmy, you want to do the honors?” Dr Mick holds out the winged figure that is called an angel.

“Stonn’s the oldest,” says Jimmy sulkily.

“Oh, in my family the youngest always had that job.”

Jim brightens, then sighs, “Stonn should still do it.”

“I do not wish to,” says Stonn quickly, “I will observe.”

Jim brightens again, “Okay, you can watch me, then you’ll know how to do it next year.”

“An excellent plan.” Dr Mick hands the angel to Jim, then places his hands under Jim’s arms and lifts him up. Jim carefully places the angel on the very top of the tree.

“Perfect,” praises Dr Mick, lowering Jim back to the ground.

“Look Stonn,” Jim nudges him.

Stonn does not understand why placing the angel on the top of the tree is so notable, it does not appear in the least difficult. But Jim is beaming proudly as if he has done something truly remarkable, so Stonn smiles at him and echoes Dr Mick.

“Perfect.” 

Jim hugs him and then hugs Dr Mick’s legs, so Stonn knows he has said the right thing. 

Dr Mick turns off the main light and turns on the strings of light on the tree. In the dark room the tree glows like a brilliant multi-colored jewel.

“Wow!” whispers Jim. Stonn stares at Jim’s awe-struck face, pale and gleaming in the light of tree. He looks at Dr Mick, smiling tiredly; he looks again at the magnificent tree.

Stonn feels most illogical. His parents would not be pleased.

 

Stonn’s parents allow him to stay with Dr Mick on Christmas Eve, so Jim can have a sleep-over. When they wake up the next morning they find Dr Mick really has pretended to be Santa and their stockings are lying on the bed stuffed full of cheerfully wrapped packages.

“Oh, look, look.” Jim bounces out of bed. He picks up Stonn’s stocking and gives it to him, then grabs his own and races into Dr Mick’s room.

“Look, look.”

“What the hell time is it?” groans Dr Mick.

“Are you alright, Dr Mick?” Stonn asks after he follows Jim. Dr Mick is struggling to sit up. His hair is mussed and his eyes are half-closed.

“Dr Mick, you’re not looking.”

Stonn turns on the light to help.

“Oh Christ,” Dr Mick slumps back in bed and flings his arm across his face. “You couldn’t just open your stockings quietly in your room like me and my sister did?”

“You want us to go away?” Jim’s lower lip wobbles.

“No, no. I’m up now.” Dr Mick sits up, rubs his eyes and runs his hands through his hair. “Okay, I’m up. Stop looking so tragic, Scamp. Come on and get into bed, don’t want you to catch cold.” He pulls back the covers invitingly and Jim eagerly scrambles into the bed. Stonn follows him and Dr Mick flicks the covers back over them. Stonn snuggles happily into the warmth.

“Look.” Jim lays his stocking down on the bed. Stonn copies him.

“Those are mighty fine stockings you have there.”

“They have our names on.” Jim traces the Jimmy sewn onto the stocking with pretty red chain stitch. Stonn’s has Stonn in dark green. Nurse Abi made them.

“And presents in them. Why don’t you open them. Show Stonn how it’s done.”

Jim tears into his stocking. Stonn goes more slowly. He has never seen a wrapped present before. His mother had exclaimed over the waste of paper when Stonn insisted on wrapping and ribboning Jim’s present from them. She did admit the result was aesthetically pleasing.

For each of them there is a red and white striped candy cane, a real paper book - Tom Sawyer for Jim, Huckleberry Finn for Stonn, a small game - Yaztzee for Jim, connect-4 for Stonn, a music chip - Motown Century for Jim, Christmas hits for Stonn, a pack of cards, a bag of white candies, a bag of gold wrapped chocolate, an apple and a sugar mouse.

After exclaiming over the presents Dr Mick ushers them back into his flat mate’s room to get dressed while he takes a shower.

Ten minutes later Stonn knocks on the bathroom door,

“Dr Mick, Jim ate all his white candies, all his chocolate coins, my choclate coins, both sugar mice - I didn’t like mine very much, his apple and half his candy cane.”

“I throwed up, Dr Mick,” Jim calls miserably.

Dr Mick says bad words and there is a loud bang from behind the bathroom door, then Dr Mick emerges. He smiles at Stonn,

“Don’t look so worried, I guess I should have expected this.” He heads swiftly into Jim. “What have you done to yourself now?”

“I didn’t mean to,” wails Jim.

“Hush, of course you didn’t. Come along you little rascal.” Dr Mick picks Jim up and carries him at arm’s length into the bathroom.

“I was good. I ate my apple.”

Dr Mick laughs, “You‘re a positive angel.”

“I’m a ‘ceptional case.

“That too.”

 

They are all cleaned up, out of their pajamas, and dressed, when Stonn’s parents arrive. Stonn shows his presents to his parents while Jim talks to his mother and then his grandfather in the bedroom. Jim does not like to be observed talking to his family. After he talks to his mother his eyes are often sore and red, although Jim always says that he is fine.

The door bell rings and Dr Mick goes to answer it, looking puzzled.

Jim pokes his head around the bedroom door,

“Is that the presents?” He turns back to the comm, “Grandfather, the presents are here.”

“You better go then. Merry Christmas Jimmy.”

“Merry Christmas.”

There are two Starfleet officers at the door.

“Is everything okay?” asks Dr Mick.

“Sure sir. We got the little guy’s Christmas presents here. They just about managed to squeeze them onto a supply shuttle from Riverside. Couldn’t have George Kirk’s son’s Christmas presents turning up late.”

“Well bring them on up.”

“Are you sure, sir? No offence, but this isn’t the biggest apartment.”

“Isn’t the biggest apartment? What the heck has his grandfather sent him?”

“It’s, um, not so much _what_ , as _how many _.”__

__“Go on then, how many?”_ _

__“Three vans, though the third one’s only about half full.”_ _

__“Three vans!”_ _

__“Lots of people send me presents,” says Jim, “to make up for not having a Dad. Sam gets really mad, because he never gets presents for not having a Dad.”_ _

__“Three vans?” Dr Mick demands._ _

__The Starfleet officers shift uncomfortably, “More like two and a half.”_ _

__“Oh, only two and a half vans of presents. I’m glad you clarified that, it makes it so much better._ _

__“I’m sorry,” whispers Jim._ _

__Dr Mick turns around and picks Jim up, “Aw Jimmy, I’m not mad. I’m just a bit… surprised. Also I have no idea where we’re going put everything.”_ _

__“We could take them straight to the hospital?”_ _

__“Why would we take them to the hospital.”_ _

__“We always take my presents to the hospital. I get to keep three,” Jim waves three fingers under Dr Mick’s nose to be certain he understands, “and Sam gets three, though Sam isn’t here. Can Stonn have three?”_ _

__“They’re your presents Jimmy.”_ _

__“Good, then Stonn can have three too, and the hospital keeps the rest. Grandfather says that way they’ll be there for me to play with next time I’m sick.”_ _

__“Your grandfather is a wiser man than I gave him credit for. Can we do that?” he asks the Starfleet officers._ _

__“Sure.”_ _

__“Let’s go then.” Dr Mick shakes his head, “Two and a half vans of presents. What the hell?”_ _

__“Well he is the Kelvin baby.”_ _

__“I am not a baby,” says Jim indignantly._ _

__“Nope,” says Dr Mick firmly, “you’re Jimmy.”_ _

__

__At the hospital everyone comes to stare at them, and some of the nurses help the officers unload the van. Dr Mick tells them to distribute the presents so all the sick children can enjoy unwrapping them._ _

__“But I get first pick,” says Jim anxiously, “because there might be some technic legos.”_ _

__“Technic lego, huh?”_ _

__“It’s the best. There wasn’t any last Christmas. But there might be now.”_ _

__“Alright, anybody sees any technic lego bring it along for Jimmy. Otherwise anything goes. You don’t mind if the some of the children in hospital, or their brothers and sisters, take home some of your presents, do you Jimmy?”_ _

__Jim shakes his head. “They’re not really my presents. Grandfather says they’re giving them to an idea. But I get to keep three because it’s hard work being an idea.”_ _

__Dr Mick makes a funny sound._ _

__“Dr Mick, you’re squishing me.”_ _

__“Sorry.” Dr Mick sets Jim down beside Stonn. “Keep an eye on him for me, little buddy.”_ _

__Stonn nods seriously._ _

__He helps Jim open some of the presents, but after they’ve unwrapped four models of Kelvin - one lego, one airfix and two commemorative special editions, Jim decides opening presents is boring._ _

__They go and find Dr Mick, who hands them three more presents._ _

__“Here you go Jimmy, we found the presents from your family at the bottom of the heap.”_ _

__Jim’s grandfather sent him two flannel shirts, his brother a box of chocolates, and his mother a watch._ _

__Dr Mick confiscates the chocolates, “I’ll take them, you can have them back a few at a time. And let me see that watch.” He waves the watch at the room, “Can somebody who knows about these things tell me if this is what I think it is?”_ _

__One of the ill children’s fathers comes over and inspects the watch._ _

__“If you’re thinking it’s a designer Omega watch and worth _a lot_ of credits, then you’d be right.”_ _

__“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Sorry Scamp, I’ll send this back to your Grandfather to keep hold of until you’re older.”_ _

__Jim sighs philosophically, “All Mom’s presents are like that. Can I wear one of the shirts? Stonn too?”_ _

__Dr Mick helps them pull on the shirts and roll back the too-long sleeves._ _

__“See,” Jim links his arm with Stonn’s, “we match.”_ _

__“Very spiffy,” Dr Mick tweaks their collars just so._ _

__Eventually all the presents are unwrapped; they do not find any technic lego._ _

__“Good grief,” says Dr Mick, “all these presents and you didn’t get the one thing you wanted.”_ _

__Jim shrugs his shoulders._ _

__“Have you seen anything you did want? Stonn?”_ _

__“I’ll get them.” Jim hurries off for their little collection._ _

__Stonn has never seen so many human toys in one place. He’d had no idea how to choose three items. Jim explained the trick was to pick three books, and since many of the books were for infants, they were actually hard-pressed to find six books they wanted._ _

__The Starfleet officers come over to say Merry Christmas and to let them know they have to head back to base._ _

__Dr Mick shakes their hands, “Thank you for all your help.”_ _

__“Happy to. It’s been an experience. Just be thankful Mr Kirk didn’t forward on any of the livestock.”_ _

__“Livestock?” yelps Dr Mick._ _

__“Oh yeah,” says Jim coming back with their books, “last year I got five puppies, two kitties, a hutch of rabbits, two hutches of guinea pigs and three huge,” Jim waves his hand high above his head in demonstration, “guards dogs in case the Romulans came for me in my sleep.”_ _

__“Holy shit!” says Dr Mick._ _

__“But the guard dogs attacked the guinea pigs’ hutch and frightened them. The guinea pigs squeaked and squeaked and there was all this blood.” He lowers his voice,_ _

__“I think they _killed_ the guinea pigs, though Grandfather wouldn’t say. I tried to stop them but they bit me too. It hurt a lot, and something was allergic so I couldn’t breath. I had to go to hospital. And Sam punched me for ruining Christmas again.” Jim droops miserably._ _

__Dr Mick just stares._ _

__Stonn puts his arm around Jim’s shoulder. “I have had an excellent Christmas.”_ _

__Dr Mick places his hands on their heads and pushes gently to start them moving, “Let’s go back to my apartment and have dinner.”_ _

__

__After dinner they open the last of their presents. Stonn’s parents give Jim a book on Vulcan to try and help him improve. Jim gives them a vase Nurse Abi helped him choose. Jim hugs Stonn when he opens the game of Kal-Tol Stonn bought for him._ _

__“Brilliant. Thanks Stonn.”_ _

__Dr Mick looks at the heap of rods, “Pick up sticks?”_ _

__“Loads more fun. You get to put the sticks down again too.” Jim pats the box affectionately and places it safely by his side. “Open mine now, Stonn.”_ _

__He hands him a large flat cuboid that rattles. Stonn eases the sparkly paper aside carefully. Jim bounces with anticipation. Stonn’s lips twitch and he deliberately slows down._ _

__“Ston-n,” whines Jim._ _

__“Yes?” he asks as if there were nothing the matter. He stops moving altogether._ _

__“You’re a meanie.”_ _

__“Your point?” But Stonn resumes unwrapping the present, because he wants to see what Jim has bought him, almost as much as Jim wants him to see it._ _

__It is a large box of technic lego._ _

__Dr Mick makes a hiccupy sort of noise and says, “Jimmy, you’re not supposed to buy people gifts you want for yourself.”_ _

__“Stonn will love it,” Jim nods his head._ _

__Stonn strokes the shiny cardboard box gently. “It is perfect.”_ _

__“Told you so.”_ _

__Stonn tucks his box securely under one arm. “Dr Mick should open our present now.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Jim dashes off to fetch the squishy bundle. He places it on Dr Mick’s lap. “Here, this from me and Stonn.”_ _

__“Thank you boys.” Dr Mick opens the present and stares at it. It is blue fluffy sweater, with a large knitted snowman on the front._ _

__“Don’t you like it?” asks Jim anxiously. “Nurse Jenny said you’d like it.”_ _

__“It is very warm,” Stonn offers._ _

__“I love it,” Dr Mick declares, pulling the sweater on, “it’s just what I wanted.” His head pops free of the collar and he smoothes the sweater down. “There, what do you think?”_ _

__Jim gives him a thumbs up and Stonn nods his head in approval. Dr Mick looks very fine._ _

__“Thank you boys. Merry Christmas.” He hauls Jim up onto his lap and into a hug, giving him a kiss on the forehead, and he pats Stonn on the back. Dr Mick feels warm and affectionate and safe, like a cozy blanket. Stonn presses closer to his legs and is rewarded with an arm dropping briefly around his shoulders._ _

__“One last present. This from me to my two trouble-makers.” Dr Mick hands them a large cuboid present. “Careful with it though. Jimmy! at least give Stonn a chance to take some of the wrapping paper off.”_ _

__They tear quickly through the paper._ _

__“Wow, it’s a chemistry set. Look Stonn, we can do experiments. This is great. Thank you, it‘s brilliant.” Jim flings his arm around Dr Mick._ _

__Stonn inspects the packaging. “It looks fascinating. Thank you.” He imitates Jim and hugs Dr Mick, enjoying the happiness swirling around._ _

__

__Stonn’s parents agree that Stonn can stay another night. That night Jim wriggles so much that Stonn falls out of bed and lands on the floor with a thump. He stares indignantly up at the bed as Jim’s glittering eyes peer down at him._ _

__“What are you doing on the floor?” he demands. “You woke me up.”_ _

__Stonn has the most irrational urge to push Jim right out the other side of bed. Something of his intent must communicate itself to Jim, because his teeth gleam in the dark as he grins,_ _

__“Go on and try it.”_ _

__“I am a Vulcan, I am considerably stronger than you.”_ _

__“Scaredy-cat.”_ _

__“Do not call me a cat.” Stonn gives Jim an experimental push. Jim just giggles and shoves back. Stonn scrambles back onto the bed and then they are wrestling for the upper hand. Stonn is a Vulcan and considerably stronger, so inevitably it is Jim who ends up toppling off the bed. However Jim clings so tightly onto to Stonn with his arms and legs, that Stonn falls with him and they land together in a heap of duvet and sheets._ _

__Jim is giggling wildly, Stonn can feel his enjoyment coursing through him and smiles. Then he gets a funny itch behind his nose and before he knows it a hiccup of laughter emerges._ _

__Jim stares at him, “Stonn, you giggled.”_ _

__“No I did not.” Stonn presses both hands tightly over his mouth and nose to stop any more giggles betraying him._ _

__“But…”_ _

__“I did not.”_ _

__“Okay. If you say so.” Jim does not seem convinced, but thankfully his attention is diverted when he catches sight of the large box Dr Mick gave them. “Hey, you wanna go play with our new chemistry set?”_ _

__Stonn would normally suggest that such a course of action was unlikely to meet adult approval, however he is too relieved that Jim is focused on something other than him. He compromises with,_ _

__“We should go into the kitchen.”_ _

__Ten minutes later Stonn knocks on Dr Mick’s bedroom door._ _

__“Dr Mick…”_ _


End file.
